Vintage cabernet in monster goblets is sipped slowly until the voice says,
‘Would all present please raise your hands to toast the artist?’
Our collective voices spontaneously echo around the warehouse now a gallery
reflecting the contagious excitement of this most salubrious event.
Some guests seriously stuff themselves with water crackers, cheerios, sliced salami
cocktail onions, Smiths potato chips, chopped olives & fancy savoury cheeses,
the usual fare put out by management expressly to cover acute hunger pains.
But soon enough those pleasurable all consuming moments are inconveniently converted
into exquisite heartburn bringing along with it burping at both ends for some unfortunate guests
While others drift vaguely around mystified past neatly framed works of art barely noticing how
the encroaching alcohol has softened the hard edges brightened the lights of those so subtle images.
So spaced out they gloss over the syrupy canned music flushing down on all heads from the booming
suspended speakers reverberating down heavily to the street below